


Lies Like Truth

by punknerdmusings



Series: Hard to Breathe [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Airbender Ozai (Avatar), Airbender Zuko (Avatar), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, I had an idea and I ran with it, This is basically a sneak peek into a larger AU I have swirling in my head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:14:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29560353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punknerdmusings/pseuds/punknerdmusings
Summary: Ozai takes after his mother. She was an Air Nomad.
Relationships: Ilah & Ozai (Avatar), Iroh & Ozai (Avatar), Ozai & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Hard to Breathe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194896
Comments: 7
Kudos: 67





	Lies Like Truth

His fist clenched as he watched the flames rise in front of his father. Flames he had never felt the pull of, despite trying for years to summon a single puff of flame. Even after his mother told him the truth. He had rejected it, refused to believe it even as an impossible breeze rustled her robes. Running to the courtyard, he practiced katas until he felt like collapsing, tears hot in his eyes as he begged Agni for a flame to suddenly burst forth. Wind picked up around him, giant gusts filling the courtyard as he grew more and more furious, more and more desperate, until he fell to his knees and screamed to the sky. Voicing his distaste and disgust the only way he knew how. And his mother was there, letting him sob into her arms as she discreetly kept up the sudden windstorm, slowly drawing it off to hide his bending.

She took him to a secret area of the palace, one even his father didn’t know about, and showed him how to properly bend. She hadn’t been given her tattoos, but she was a master regardless, having been taught every form. It was an untraditional way to raise an airbender, but then again, her son was as untraditional as they came. Raised a prince of the Fire Nation. And when he would fail to perform a move yet again, and he would snap that he’d have rather been a firebender like his father, her face hardened. But she understood all the same. He hated the comments he got, the other nobles looking down at him at best and actively antagonizing him at worst. Yet, them thinking he was a nonbender was infinitely safer than the truth. If they were found out, they would be killed along with the rest of her people. Of his people.

She had declared him a master the day before she died. Natural causes, the Fire Sages said. Poison, whispered the court. He clenched his fist as the wind picked up. It still responded to his emotions, and all he ever felt nowadays was anger. He was angry at his father, and his mother, and at himself, for everything and nothing. At his smug brother, who had become such a great firebender he had gone and killed a dragon. The last one. So even if he had wanted to attempt, he couldn’t. Not like they let nonbenders perform such an impressive feat.

He had abandoned firebending katas in the training courtyard long ago. Now, he practiced in his rooms, any furniture pressed up against the walls. When his brother asked about the spartan look, he had simply replied that he had little use for sentiment. The general’s eyes settled on the glider, narrowing his eyes.

“What use does a non-sentimental, nonbender have for an antique like that?”

“It was a gift from Mother. I’m allowed to be sentimental about her, am I not?”

His brother was perhaps putting together that it was the perfect length for him until he turned, laughing. Suggested they had tea. He dragged his table out to its proper location and tossed cushions haphazardly on either side of the table. Putting on a pot, he could feel his brother behind him. The heat that came off him in waves. He could be burnt to a crisp in seconds. His one advantage might be that his bending was still secret, but he wasn’t sure of that any more.

“How long did you know she was an airbender?” For how warm the room was, his brother’s voice was ice. “Why did she give you an Air Nomad glider sized right for you?”

He had two options. Tell the truth, and die on the spot, or lie, and die a little later. Maybe even from natural causes. He wished his mother had truly died from natural causes.

“I didn’t know. She gave me the glider because she thought I would like it.” Hide the truth in the lie, and it rolls off the tongue easier. Hence why he would sidestep nobles asking about his bending by saying he wasn’t a firebender, not that he wasn’t a bender at all.His father may be the snake, but it was his mother who had taught him to lie like he was telling the truth. Told him it would save his life more times than he could count. She had been right.

“I guess letting you keep it wouldn’t hurt anything.” The heat in the room had dissipated, his brother had taken the lie. He pulled the kettle off the flame, finally turning around to pour it. Try not to let them see your face when you lie, it would make it easier to hide. Hours of practice until she was satisfied. He remembered the worry behind the determination, her gray eyes as dark as storm clouds.

“Such a pity you have her eyes. Good thing most have forgotten what gray eyes signify.”

“I’m not a bender. You know this.”

His brother's golden eyes slid over to him, before his weight shifted and an extended hand blasted fire straight towards his face. He tripped backwards, landing with a hard thud on the ground. It took him a second to catch his breath, not daring to bend even that much in fear of tipping off his brother. When oxygen had returned to his lungs, he stood, frustration leeching onto his face to hide his fear.

“I thought you were maybe a late bloomer.”

“That stopped being funny when we were children.”

He didn’t trust the mirth that hid his brother’s ruthlessness. “Nonsense, it’s always been hilarious! Now, let me tell you of my latest military victory.”

He would never relax around the Crown Prince. Long ago, he had learned not to, when he had been walking by their father’s room and he had overheard them talking about their suspicions about Mother. Seems like they hadn’t had any evidence until recently. Either that, or they had gotten tired of waiting and decided to off her anyway. She had always been an outsider. Always given sidelong glances. And with her gone, those glances had turned to him, it seemed.

As much as he hated his bending, it connected him to her. So he practiced, day after day, flying on moonless nights. Never taking off or landing in the same place, hiding himself with dark clothes. He did it until his father finally arranged a marriage. If given the choice, he never would have married. But his brother had only produced a single heir, and there needed to be more than just two people in line for the throne. He didn’t count, of course. He was a nonbender, how could he be eligible? And when his son blew out all the candles in the room when he was born, the nurses praised him, saying he would have a strong firebender on his hands. But he knew better. That was air that had put out those flames. Decades-old disgust roiled in his chest as he held his firstborn, and beneath it, fear. How had his mother hid his bending, so long ago? How was he supposed to hide his child’s?

As he watched his son grow up, trying to firebend and only failing, he wondered what to do. He had nobody to turn to, a loss ringing deep in his soul for a long moment before he was snapped back to reality. He wasn’t an Air Nomad. He could raise his child normally. And he tried, even after his second born was a firebender. His daughter was third in line for the throne, and spent more time with his brother than him. He debated taking his son down to his mother’s secret training area, but when he found that the child couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, he decided against it. And he raised walls around his heart, hardening it to the possibility that his son would be revealed as an airbender and be killed.

He was not expecting a small body to barrel into his room late at night, sobbing, babbling about airbending. Dragging his son out, he hissed at him to be silent and listen, that if anyone found out, yes, even Uncle, even Mother and sister, that if anyone found out he was an airbender, he would be killed. His son shrank from the threat, from the rage in his face, before mumbling a small acknowledgement. He searched the small face, so much like his, so much like his mother’s, just with safe golden eyes.

He took him down to his mother’s secret bunker. He trained the boy, imparting every lesson his own mother had given him. Bending, culture, history. Lying. There were times he begged for his mother’s patience when his son stumbled again and again on the same form, there were times he threw patience to the wind and he let out all of his rage out, reminding him of what would happen if he didn’t learn to lie like he was telling the truth.

Eventually, his son excelled. Years went by, nobody the wiser that there was even one airbender in the palace, let alone two. His son never let the secret slip, even when being pestered by his sister. His father seemed to care less and less about the defective royal family members, leaving them out of more and more things until he was all but forgotten.

He didn’t bother trying to get the throne when his nephew died. And his father died shortly after. Natural causes, the Fire Sages said. Poison, the court whispered. He had weathered this storm before, and after all, who would suspect the nonbending son with no claim to the throne? He kept training his son. His brother banished his wife. There was no proof. He would be fine. His daughter was adopted officially into the Fire Lord’s direct succession. He would be fine. His son spoke out in a war meeting. He would be fine. His son’s face was half burned off.

He was not fine. He left with his son, taking the antique. The Fire Lord issued a manhunt for the airbenders, Princes Ozai and Zuko of the Fire Nation. But he would survive, thrive even. They were Air Nomads, not just Fire Nation. And he could tell a lie like he could tell the truth.


End file.
